To all you brave and plucky souls weathering this record breaking Winter... hold on. Spring is poised to sprout. I just know it. Despite the frigid fingers of wind that unwrap your scarf and creep-sneak down your spine. Despite the tawny, snow beaten grass that twists between wind blown twigs and scattered patches of silvered ice to the edge of the winter weary woods. Despite the wild and wooly roar of March's lion--- you can feel it. Right?

Kicked Up Colcannon

Traditional colcannon is an Irish potato recipe thick with cream and sticks of butter. If served for the Celtic New Year, a bowl of colcannon might include a lucky coin hidden in its pillowy depths; the charmed recipient- if she didn't break a tooth on it- kept the buried treasure for a New Year's worth of kind fortune.

My version of colcannon is anything but traditional. I'm an Ashkenazi-Scot-Irish Polish shiksa zen Jungian humanist by way of the Siberian Ice Maiden, after all (this is how I found out, with a 23andMe DNA test; my maternal haplotype is A8). So you know I had to change it up a bit. It had to be spiked with the flavors I crave.

Flavors that love snuggling up to potatoes.

Because when it comes to this windy, stormy almost-spring-but-not-quite time of year nothing beats a good potato recipe.

It's in my blood. On all sides of my eclectic lineage there is a love of potatoes. And not just a flirtatious fling kinda love. Abiding love. The real deal. The kind of love that conjures the crispy Potato Latke and the tender knish, the golden browned Shepherd's Pie and the bonfire baked jacket potato. The kind of love that is sensible and hands-on practical and pairs the most beloved of tubers with cabbage and onion.

And dreams up a gem like colcannon.

I am blessed on all sides with maternal traditions that share an appetite for potatoes- and simple comfort food.